


In Which Ward Can’t Hold His Liquor

by snarkysweetness



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble, Drunken Shenanigans, Humor, What is Hydra?, not really shippy, team friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkysweetness/pseuds/snarkysweetness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward thinks he can outdrink the girls; he’s wrong. Everyone knows better than to try to outdrink Fitz. Somehow Ward ends up in Skye’s lap. Basically the team gets wasted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Ward Can’t Hold His Liquor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_gunlady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gunlady/gifts).



> Hey Ally have some dumb team drinking bonding (and yes, super dumb, but yunno you wanted it). We can pretend Trip has always been on the team and what is Hydra?

“What in the bloody fuck are you three doing,” Fitz asked from the doorway.

Jemma glanced up with a smirk as Ward slammed his shot glass down. “Skye and I are showing Ward how it’s done, Fitzy.”

“You enjoy cutting your hand on glass, don’t you?” Skye tsked as she took two more shots.

Ward groaned and laid his head in her lap. “You’re killing me.”

“If you can’t keep up, just say so,” Jemma teased.

“And no one thought to invite me?” Fitz asked, offended.

Jemma gave him a ‘please’ look. “Fitz, it’s not really a fair drinking contest when you invite the Scot.”

He smirked and took a seat. He reached for the bottle of tequila and poured himself a shot with Jemma’s glass. “This shite is horrid, who let Ward pick out the tequila?”

“Hey, no one wants the good stuff when the plan is to get hammered,” he mumbled into Skye’s pants.

Skye ran her fingers through his hair and shot Jemma a look of concern. “I think he’s done whether he wants to admit it or not.”

“No!” Ward shot up with determination, swaying as he did so.

Everyone but Skye rolled their eyes.  She frowned. “Grant…it’s okay, you don’t have to…” he took two more shots, “…keep drinking.” 

“What about you, Trip,” Fitz asked.

Trip glanced up from his book and snorted. “Yeah, right, I know better. The last time I let you fools drink me under the table I ended up taking my pants off.”

Both of the girls smirked and glanced over at him appreciatively.

“We should do that again; you do have a _very_ nice penis.” Jemma said with a smirk.

“Oy!” Fitz didn’t need to hear about penises, thank you very much.

“Don’t worry, Fitzy, yours is nice too.”

Skye snorted into her shot. “Maybe we should get absinthe again, it turns Fitz into a dirty slut. Maybe it’ll help the three of you finally bone,” she muttered.

“Oh Skye, don’t be crude!” Jemma blushed as the boys simply glanced at one another and shrugged.

“Knew it-oh God, Grant, are you going to puke? Grant? Shit, I think he passed out.” Skye slapped his face a few times but he stayed out. “Fitz, help me roll him on his stomach, in case he pukes.”

“Coulson is going to kill us if he pukes on his plane again,” Fitz muttered. When they stepped back he looked kind of peaceful, sleeping with his mouth half open and snoring.

“This is why they haven’t had drunken sex, he always passes out,” Jemma muttered.

Skye scoffed. “Excuse me; if I want to have sex with a machine I’d just use my vibrator.”

“The lady doth protest too much,” Trip teased and she rolled her eyes before taking another drink.

“This contest isn’t over, Queen Elizabeth,” Skye taunted.

“Oh, Skye, be prepared to lose.”

Skye lost so hard (but at least she didn’t puke). Somehow she would up curled at Ward’s side, slobbering, Jemma passed out between Fitz and Trip, and Fitz and Trip wound up finishing the bottle before Trip passed out too.

“Lightweights, all of you,” Fitz muttered as he put blankets on everyone and set out water bottles and aspirin for the morning. He brushed hair out of Simmons’ face, debating on whether or not to carry her back to her bunk, he could probably manage it, and she weighed nothing.

‘What the hell have you five been up to?”

He glanced up to find an annoyed Coulson with a smirking May standing behind him.

“They all got extremely drunk, sir. I found them like this,” he insisted innocently.

Coulson rolled his eyes. “If one of them throws up, you’re cleaning it.”

May waited until he left to laugh. “Drinking contest?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know why they bother.”

“Next time shall we show them how it’s done?”

May smirked before walking off. “Anytime, Fitz.”


End file.
